The train screeched to a halt, steam billowing into the cold night air and cloaking the platform in a hazy mist. Students spilled out, dragging trunks, waving to friends, or just stretching after the long ride.
Harry climbed down from the train, his bag swung over his shoulder. Dean and Seamus had already taken off, disappearing into the noisy crowd with quick goodbyes. Susan was still nearby, fussing with her skirt. Harry glanced down for a second, and before he even thought about it, his hand slid out and gave her backside a light squeeze.
She gasped, spinning around, her cheeks blazing red.
Harry smirked, tossing her a wink.
Susan looked like she wanted to say something but just clamped her mouth shut. Her blush deepened as she turned and hurried after Dean and Seamus, muttering something under her breath. Harry watched her go, amused, before turning toward the growing cluster of first-years at the platform's edge.
"First years, over here! Move along now!"
A booming voice cut through the chaos. Harry spotted the source—a giant of a man holding a lantern high in one massive hand, his voice loud enough to carry over the noise.
"Who's that?" Harry wondered aloud, falling into step with the others.
"No idea," someone behind him said. Harry glanced over to see a freckled boy struggling with a trunk almost his size. "But he's hard to miss, huh?"
The group followed the giant down a winding path, his lantern swinging as he led the way. The other first-years, all sixteen like Harry, were a mixed bag. Some were tall and athletic, their strides confident, while others hung back nervously, fidgeting with their robes or adjusting their bags.
When the trees parted, Harry stopped short. The view was straight out of a fantasy—an enormous lake stretched out in front of them, black and glassy, reflecting the scattered light of lanterns and a sliver of moon. Beyond it, the castle loomed, impossibly grand with its glowing windows and sky-piercing spires.
"Blimey," someone whispered nearby.
"First years, four to a boat!" the giant called out, snapping them out of their daze.
Harry scanned the line of small wooden boats bobbing gently along the dock. He spotted one with two girls already seated and wasted no time stepping in. The boat rocked slightly as he dropped his bag at his feet and took a seat.
Behind him, a boy with a round face and a nervous expression hurried over, glancing at the remaining space. "Mind if I join?" he asked, his voice unsure.
"Go ahead," Harry said, gesturing.
The boy climbed in carefully, taking the last spot.
The blonde caught his eye first. Full lips, big tits, and thick in all the right ways she had the kind of look that made you wonder where the party was and if she'd already taken it over. Confident, too, sitting there like the boat was her throne.
The brunette was a contrast—neatly put together, bushy hair tied back, her nose practically buried in a book. She had that "nerdy but hot" thing going on, the kind of girl who might offer to blow you in exchange for a last-minute homework rescue.
"I'm Harry," he said, keeping it simple.
"Daphne," the blonde replied.
"Hermione Granger," the brunette added.
"Neville Longbottom," the boy next to Harry mumbled, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.
The boat glided smoothly across the dark water, the castle looming closer with every passing second. Harry leaned back, letting the cold air hit his face, the quiet slosh of the lake filling the silence. Daphne didn't seem to care much for the view she was more interested in sitting back and letting her skirt hike up just enough to draw attention. Hermione, meanwhile, fiddled with her book, stealing glances at Harry like she couldn't decide if she wanted to say something or keep studying him.
"Not bad for a first look, huh?" Harry said casually, glancing at the castle.
Hermione nodded quickly, her face lighting up. "It's incredible. Just think of all the history in there!"
Daphne smirked, leaning slightly to the side. "History's great, but I'm more interested in what's next. Sorting, dorms, seeing who's worth knowing." She glanced at Harry, and the way she looked at him made it clear—he was already on her radar.
Harry didn't bother replying, just gave her a small smirk and turned his attention back to the approaching dock.
The boat bumped gently against the wooden planks, and Neville was the first to scramble out, nearly toppling over in his rush. Harry stayed seated, motioning for the girls to go ahead.
"Ladies first,"
Hermione climbed out first, her book hugged tight to her chest as she stepped carefully onto the dock. Harry's eyes trailed down without much thought, catching the sway of her slim hips and the small curve of her ass under her skirt. Not bad at all—petite and tight, just like her.
Then Daphne stood up, stretching a bit as she straightened her skirt. She looked back, catching Harry's eyes dead-on. Her smirk was all confidence she knew exactly where he'd be looking next. She turned around, taking her sweet time stepping out of the boat.
Harry didn't even try to stop himself. Her skirt barely held those thick, juicy cheeks in place. They bounced with every step, round and heavy like they were made for showing off. That ass didn't just happen it was gym hours, plain and simple.
When she glanced back over her shoulder again, catching him staring, her smirk turned wicked. Harry grinned right back, no shame in it. The castle loomed ahead, but he barely noticed it. He was too busy following two very different, very appealing views.
Ahead, a stern-looking witch stood waiting, her face set in a look that could probably freeze fire. She didn't waste time, introducing herself as Professor McGonagall and launching into an explanation about Sorting—four houses, a magical hat, and something about values. Harry tuned in just enough to catch the gist of it.
Dean and Seamus were near the back, whispering something that made Dean snort into his hand while Seamus grinned like he'd just told the funniest joke in the world. Susan was up front, standing ramrod straight, her face serious as she listened to every word McGonagall said.
After what had happened on the train, Harry wondered how she was keeping such a straight face. How was she dealing with his cum dripping from her, well fucked pussy. The thought almost made him laugh, but he shook it off, turning his attention back to McGonagall.
The big doors swung open, and the first-years shuffled in behind McGonagall. The Great Hall was massive. Candles hung in the air, glowing steady above the long tables packed with older students. The ceiling? Straight-up magic, showing the night sky outside like the roof wasn't even there.
Harry took it all in for a second, but he wasn't the only one staring. The noise from the older students; whispers, laughs, bits of conversation dropped as soon as they walked in. All eyes turned toward the new group, sizing them up like they were on display.
At the front of the hall, McGonagall stopped near a stool with a ratty old hat sitting on it. She didn't waste time, explaining the Sorting process. Each of them would sit under the hat, and it would decide which house they'd belong to for the rest of their time at Hogwarts.
The Sorting started almost immediately. McGonagall called out the first name, and a boy with shaky hands stumbled up to the stool. The hat barely touched his head before shouting "Hufflepuff!" Cheers erupted from one of the tables, and the boy hurried off to join them, his face pink with relief.
Harry's attention drifted as more names were called. Some kids got sorted instantly; the hat barely had to think. Others sat there forever, the hat's brim moving like it was having a full-on debate with itself.
Susan Bones.
Harry straightened slightly as Susan walked up to the stool. Her steps were quick and a little too stiff, like she was trying to act natural but overthinking it. Harry watched as the hat slipped over her head, covering her eyes. It didn't take long before it bellowed, "Hufflepuff!"
Susan shot up, almost knocking the hat off in her rush to get to the cheering table.
Daphne Greengrass was called next. Thicc hot babe.
Even the older students seemed to notice; a few of them at the Slytherin table leaned in to whisper, eyes fixed on her.
The hat didn't hesitate. "Slytherin!"
Finally, McGonagall called out, "Harry Potter."
The whispers started immediately, a ripple spreading through the hall like someone had dropped a stone into a pond.
Harry walked up slowly, not rushing but not dragging it out either.
The hat was old, patched, and probably had seen better days, but as soon as it touched his head, he heard its voice.
"Interesting… very interesting. Plenty of courage, I see. And ambition too. A thirst to prove yourself—oh, yes, that's clear."
Harry stayed quiet, letting it ramble.
"Gryffindor could shape you into a leader. Slytherin could bring out your ambition. You'd thrive in either…"
"Just pick one," Harry thought.
"Impatient. How very Gryffindor of you." The hat paused for a moment, then declared, "Gryffindor!"
The table in red and gold erupted, cheers echoing through the hall. Harry pulled the hat off, setting it back on the stool, and made his way to the Gryffindor table. He slid into a seat next to Hermione, who gave him a quick smile before turning her attention back to the Sorting. Across the table, Dean and Seamus grinned at him, raising their goblets like he'd just scored a goal in a match.
"Not bad," Seamus said. "Welcome to Gryffindor, mate."
The Sorting continued, but Harry barely paid attention. The food had appeared, and it was everything he could've hoped for after a day of travel—roast chicken, buttery potatoes, thick slices of bread. He loaded his plate, not bothering to slow down until he was comfortably full.
Dumbledore's speech about rules and safety barely registered in Harry's mind as he reached for another goblet of pumpkin juice. The room buzzed with energy, but it wasn't long before prefects started calling for the first-years to gather up.
Harry followed the rest of the Gryffindors, dragging his bag along as they left the Great Hall and made their way through the castle.
"This way!" the prefect at the front called, leading them up a long series of winding staircases. Harry tried to keep up, but the castle was too much to ignore. Moving staircases, talking portraits, flickers of magic in every corner—it felt alive.
"This place is insane," Seamus muttered beside him, shaking his head as a suit of armor gave a polite bow. "How do you even figure out where to go?"
"No clue," Harry replied, glancing at Dean, who was still craning his neck to look at everything.
Eventually, they reached a corridor that ended at a massive portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress. The prefect stopped, turning to face the group.
"This is the entrance to the Gryffindor common room," she explained. "The password is 'Caput Draconis.' Don't forget it, or you'll be stuck out here."
The portrait swung open, revealing a warm, cozy room filled with squashy armchairs and banners in red and gold. Harry stepped inside, immediately feeling at home.
"Nice," Dean said, dropping his bag onto the floor.
~~~~~~~~
Harry leaned back in his chair, watching the lively chaos of the Gryffindor common room. Butterbeer mugs clinked, laughter filled the air, and a group of students near the fireplace was mid-game, their voices loud enough to carry over the chatter. It was easy to sit back and take it all in, but that didn't last long.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement—two girls making their way toward him. Both were older, no question about it. The blonde was curvy and her long hair loose. Her smile was bright, confident, and maybe a little too knowing. The brunette wasn't as bold in her appearance, but her slim figure and the way she moved said plenty.
They stopped in front of him, the blonde planting herself with a wide grin. "Hey, first year. Why're you sitting here all alone?"
Harry glanced up. "Just watching the show," he said, motioning toward the chaos around them.
"Well, you should've joined in," the brunette said, folding her arms. "It's no fun just sitting on the sidelines."
"I'm Katie," she added before he could answer, her grin matching the blonde's energy.
"And I'm Lavender," the blonde said, dropping onto the armrest of his chair like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Harry,"
"We know," Lavender said with a sly smile, leaning in a little closer. "We noticed you at dinner. Quiet, not too chatty. Thought we'd come see what you're about."
"Figured you might be worth saying hello to," Katie added, leaning against the opposite armrest.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Just saying hello?"
"For now," Lavender teased, her grin widening. She let her hand rest lightly on the back of his chair, her fingers brushing against his shoulder. "You seem… interesting."
Katie gave a soft laugh, her eyes flicking to Lavender for a moment before returning to Harry. "We have this little thing we like to do every year," she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear. "Pick someone new, get to know them. Make sure they feel… welcome."
Lavender tilted her head, her hair brushing against his arm as she added, "And this year, you're the lucky one."
Harry stayed cool, not giving much away. "Lucky, huh?"
Katie's smile turned wicked. "You will be."
Lavender shifted a little closer, her knee brushing against his. "We thought we'd start with a Butterbeer, see where the night goes. You game?"
Harry let his smirk show this time. "I can handle that."
Katie and Lavender exchanged a glance, and it was clear they were already thinking ahead. Lavender slid off the armrest, motioning toward the table where a few bottles of Butterbeer were still spinning lazily from an earlier game. "Come on, Harry," she said, throwing him a wink. "Let's make your first night memorable."
Harry followed Lavender and Katie to the table near the fireplace, where the spinning Butterbeer bottles were still doing lazy circles. The game that had kicked them off had clearly ended, leaving the bottles as leftover props. Lavender grabbed one, holding it up with a mischievous grin.
"First Butterbeer of the year," she said, passing it to Harry. "Think you can keep up?"
Harry cracked it open and took a sip, savoring the fizzy sweetness. "I'll manage."
Katie leaned on the edge of the table, her smirk matching Lavender's. "Well, you're going to have to. Because we're not just drinking—we're playing a game."
Harry set the bottle down, eyeing them both. "What kind of game?"
Lavender slid into a seat across from him. "Truth or Dare, with a twist," she said, her grin widening.
Katie chimed in, taking the seat next to her. "If you don't answer a question, you drink. If you've already had too much to drink, you lose a piece of clothing. Simple."
Harry raised an eyebrow, looking between them. "And if I call you out on a question you don't want to answer?"
"Same rules," Katie said with a shrug. "We drink, or…" She tugged lightly at her tie, letting it fall loose around her neck.
Lavender leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Fair warning: We don't lose often."
"Alright, I'm in. Who's starting?"
"I will," Katie said, tilting her head as she thought. "Alright, Harry. Have you ever hooked up with someone you'd just met?"
Harry didn't flinch. "Yeah."
Lavender raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "How'd that go?"
"Good enough to try it again," Harry said casually, taking a sip of Butterbeer.
Katie snorted. "Alright, your turn."
Harry leaned back in his chair, studying them for a moment. "Fine. Have either of you ever done this with someone who actually made you lose a round?"
Lavender grinned. "Once," she said, raising her bottle. "But only because he cheated."
"Cheated how?"
Katie rolled her eyes. "Long story. He skipped the questions and went straight for the dare. We didn't stand a chance."
The game picked up speed after that. Questions flew back and forth, some innocent, most anything but. Harry had to admit, the stakes kept it interesting.
At one point, Lavender leaned closer, her smile sharp as she asked, "Alright, Harry. What's the dirtiest thing you've ever done in public?"
Harry didn't answer right away, pretending to mull it over as he took another sip of Butterbeer. "Depends on how you define 'dirty.'"
Katie laughed, shaking her head. "That's a cop-out."
"Drink," Lavender said, pointing at him.
Harry raised his bottle in mock defeat and took another sip. "Your turn, then."
Katie leaned toward him, her tie now gone, leaving her shirt open just enough to hint at the curve beneath. "What's your type?"
"Brunettes who ask too many questions," Harry said, earning a laugh from both of them.
"And blondes?" Lavender asked, resting her chin on her hand.
Harry shrugged. "Blondes with tits big enough to give me proper tittyfuck"
Lavender's grin turned wicked as she arched her back just slightly, her chest pushing forward. "Big enough for that, Potter?" she teased, tilting her head. "Or should I be worried?"
By the time the next question rolled around, Lavender and Katie had ditched their ties, and Harry's robes were slung over the back of his chair. The mood had shifted from playful to charged, the girls testing his limits with every question and dare.
Lavender tilted her head, giving Harry a once-over like she was sizing him up for something. "Alright, Potter, let's see how bold you really are." She glanced at Katie, her smile turning into something almost conspiratorial. "Truth or dare?"
Harry leaned back, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk. "Dare."
Katie raised her eyebrows. "Didn't even hesitate." She tapped a finger against her lips, pretending to think. "Alright, here's one. We dare you to come upstairs with us. Girls' dorms. Right now."
The room went quiet at least in their little corner. Harry didn't miss the way Lavender's eyes sparkled with amusement, or how Katie bit her lip, waiting for his reaction.
"And if I say no?" he asked his interest clear.
Lavender leaned closer, close enough for him to catch the faint vanilla scent of her perfume. "Then we'll just have to find someone else to show how we 'welcome' first-years," she teased.
Harry's smirk deepened. He pushed himself up from the chair, grabbing his robes and slinging them lazily over his shoulder. "Lead the way, ladies."
Katie and Lavender exchanged a quick look, both grinning like they'd just won something. Katie grabbed her butterbeer and stood, while Lavender took Harry's hand, tugging him toward the staircase that led to the girls' dormitory.
As they slipped out of the crowded common room, Katie glanced over her shoulder. "Just so you know, Potter what happens tonight stays between us."
"Right," Harry replied though his heart thudded harder in his chest. "Wouldn't want anyone getting jealous."
Lavender chuckled, her fingers lacing with his as they reached the top of the stairs. "Good. You're learning."
The door to the girls' dorm creaked open, and Harry followed them inside, wondering if every night at Hogwarts would be this… memorable.
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